In the event I decided to declare yesterday a holiday and left my cleaning materials in the cupboard. Now, this morning, I’m feeling bad about it, and worse as the hours go by with not a lot to show for them.
Worse things happen and, while I seem to be low on energy again, I have grit and determination to see me through. Only a week to go now before the great reunion.
Dolly is showing all the signs of dissatisfaction at my obsession with cleaning things. There’s something comforting about a light accumulation of dust. It’s quiet, for one thing, and Dolly really does love quiet. As do I. And, after all, if you don’t have a bit of dust around, how can you see where you’ve been with your duster?
The sun is hiding behind a sky filled with heavy grey cloud once more and the presence of a large area of high pressure just a little to the West means that it’s liable to stay that way for a day or so. All I need now is for us to be hit with a Great Gloom and I really will begin to feel that they’re out to get me.
Hey ho. Time to get the bucket and mop out and shift some dirt around. On with the show, as they say.
~~+~~
two magpies dancing
one seagull soaring–
bring on the clowns
~~+~~
Dust is a protective coating for fine furniture.
~Mario Buatta.
I like this quote, seems to sum things up.
Onwards and Upwards…poor Dolly
Life is dust…
And to dust we will return.
You keep talking about dusting and I may well feel ashamed of mine. The downside of knick knacks.
Easy does it, John. You’ve gotten a special dispensation for getting Graham that ticket. Plus, he needs to have something to do (other than re-d0ing all the paint and plaster again).
Thank you for Ethel Merman! What a dynamic lady she was!
John, Sil is right. We don’t want Graham thinking you’re doing *too* well without him. Don’t get carried away doing the high and low places.
If you can leave enough stuff (books, magazines, CDs, DVDs, photographs, etc.) piled up on flat surfaces, nobody can see the dust.
You just have to be clever about dust, John. My sister once guilted out (briefly) a visitor who idly ran a finger along the dust layer on the mantel above the fireplace. “Oh no!” my sister wailed. “You’ve dug up the seeds I had planted!”
I just love Dee’s comment. Says it all. When I start sneezing, I know the dust is winning again here.